Sometimes
by Midnight Alexis Thorn
Summary: Sometimes...Sometimes...Sometimes...Sometimes...Canada wished, hoped, and dreamed...But he also wished that he didn't get his hopes up so much. He didn't want it all to crash down and suffocate him when it went wrong.


**Gah. Fuck January as a month in general. I've been so fucking busy lately preparing for HSPT, a history project that I got first place in EVEN THOUGH I DID IT THE FUCKING NIGHT BEFORE, midterms, and some other ridiculous shit. I was in a depressed mood and was really stressed out when I made time to write this. Yeah, sometimes I'm a little emo. **

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><p>Sometimes<p>

Sometimes Canada really hated everyone and everything. Life wasn't fair. No one gave a shit about whether or not Canada was up for blah-blah-blah or if Canada wanted to blah-blah-blah or if Canada had an opinion on something. Wanna know why? Simple, they couldn't fucking see him.

Sometimes Canada thought that maybe he should be more like his brother. His brother got recognition. Sure, half of it was bad attention and recognition, but at least it was something, right? He should be more loud, outgoing, happy. He shouldn't be his brother's shadow and the person that almost no one knows about. But why would he have to change himself? Why couldn't he just be him?

Sometimes Canada thought dark things. How much would it hurt to jump off from the top of the First Canadian Place, which was 978 feet high with 72 floors? Would hurting himself make him feel better like self-harmers usually say or think? Would anyone miss him if he decided that he didn't want to live on this earth any more? Would they even realize that he was gone? Maybe after a while of Canada being completely unresponsive as a country.

Sometimes Canada hated himself. He would never be as great and lovable as his brother. He would never be as popular. He would never be loved. He would never be cared for and remembered, because he was just easy to forget, wasn't he? He would never be like America. End point. He would never have a boyfriend who loves him. He would never be fully happy.

Sometimes Canada really wished someone would take the time of day to notice him. Then he realized that he was getting his hopes up far too much. Notice him? Ha, what a riot! Pathetic, little, insignificant, boring, ugly, fat, stupid him? Never.

Sometimes Canada wished that he could think happy thoughts. He wished that his mind didn't treat him this way. He wished that his mind didn't call him a useless waste of space on a map and universe. He wished that he didn't believe that. He really didn't. But he did believe it, so 'oh, well,' right? Because, really, who gave a fuck about anything to do with Canada?

Sometimes Canada wished that France would just fucking pick already. Did he acknowledge Canada's existence, or not? Canada wished that he could just choose instead of walking back into his life and giving him hope at random times. France would forget about him for a couple months or even years, but then suddenly visit or talk to Canada and give him hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be loved and not forgotten this time. But then France forgot about him again and Canada's boss would bitch about all he money he spent on ice cream. Again.

Sometimes Canada wished that he didn't do such a girly thing when he was extremely depressed. Seriously, what kind of man eats ice cream to drown out his woes and sorrows? That was a trick question; No man would do that. Canada-Matthew- wasn't a man; He was a scared and hurt boy with a heart bleeding for attention.

(Oh, France would be proud of how poetic that sounded. Or would he? Would he be disgusted with anything that Matthew even attempted at poetry? Probably. Everything about Matthew was disgusting. Always was, always will be. Maybe that's why the most of the other countries chose not to see him.)

Sometimes...Canada- no, Matthew, didn't know what he wanted. He didn't know what he wished. He didn't know what he thought. Because...could nothing think? Wish? Hope? ...Dream? Could a nothing or nobody do any of those thing? ...Maybe they could, but it would never be fulfilled...Ever...Because why would anything good happen for nothing?

Sometimes Matthew really hoped that it was just another one of his dark thoughts because...he wanted to hope. To dream. To wish. To be like all the visible nations... To wish that sometimes he didn't hate everyone and everything. He wished he didn't think he should be more like his brother. He wished he didn't have dark thoughts. He wished he didn't hate himself most of the time. He wished that he didn't wish and hope and dream for someone to notice and care for him. He wanted it to happen or not happen depending on whatever he wished and hoped and dreamed. He wanted and hoped that something good would happen when someone finally acknowledged him. He could be noticed! He could be liked! Hell, he could be loved!

Sometimes...Matthew wished he didn't get his hopes up just so they would be broken down again. Because they would be broken down again. As always.

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><p><strong>The feels! (I'm such an emo sometimes.) I did a similar type thing for Matt's bro, Alfred called "Maybe." You can feel free to check that out. Love you guys, and sorry that I won't be able to update my actual stories that I should be working on. Bye, lovelies. <strong>


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